Catch-22
by SomeLikeItHot88
Summary: Liz has so many unanswered questions plaguing her mind and at the top of her list is who she is to Raymond Reddington. She needs answers that only he can provide and without knowing their connection to one another she is unable to work through the emotions and feelings he conjures up inside of her, she confronts him with the million dollar question but either way- she's screwed.
1. Chapter 1

**Hi everyone, this is my first blacklist fanfic, I just watched all of season 1 and got addicted! I thought for sure that Red was Lizzie's father in the first half of episode one and then I saw the chemistry between the two actors and hoped that wasn't the case. Even though they have a huge age difference, I still ship them and since my favorite actress Katherine Zeta Jones and Micheal Douglass are 25 years apart, the whole lizzington ship was quickly justified in my head. I wrote this on my phone so don't judge me if there are mistakes and please let me know what you think. **

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><p>There was no way to pin point when it started, no revelation or moment of recognition, it didn't suddenly occur or become apparent but it didn't exactly come out of left field either. It was small minuscule moments, chaste stares and embraces, it was the fluid sound of his voice and the meaning behind his words, it was the small flicker of admiration in his eyes when he starred at her, seemingly undetectable because once you blinked, you missed it. The way he embraced her when she needed comforting, the wise words that escaped his lips, and the feather light kisses into her hair. It was her moments of weakness that resulted in his moments of triumph, because even after all he had done, she still turned to him.<p>

She had spent the majority of her time hating him, wishing he never walked into her life, and blaming him for turning her world upside down, she was so focused on creating barriers between them that she didn't realize that she was becoming dependent on him. Her world revolved around him, and she couldn't remember when she had accepted that fact, when did she become okay with it? And when did she start to become dependent on it?

He was her job, that was what she did, she protected an asset and informant of the FBI, that was her duty and obligation, nothing more and nothing less. But somewhere in between the black and white world she had cultivated, a grey area continued to grow and flourish and she didn't even realize it until today. She had asked him if he was her father, and he had denied it but the question cast a shadow at the back of her mind silently wondering for months until little by little, each passing day the suspicion would get smaller and eventually diminished and then something new crawled up to the spot, something she couldn't even let entertain in her head let alone contemplate with her lips. She couldn't remember when her mind had replaced that suspicion with fear. The fear that he could actually be her father. Because her emotions were tangled in a web of different feelings and hidden truths that she couldn't even understand her self, didn't know how to categorize her feelings for him, there was this thin line drawn between them, and on each side stood two radically different paths, almost perverse because she couldn't remember when she started denying that he was related and hoping that it was the truth.

He said he never lied to her, and that gave her some relief but the uneasy feeling in her stomach made it impossible for her to breathe easily, the possibility of her paternity lingering in the air and making every emotion she felt towards him unsettling and frightening. She didn't know what to feel or how to feel because she had unresolved questions, he kept so many secrets and she still doesn't know how they are connected, and she is not sure that she wants to if it means that the truth is they are related. In the beginning she had even hoped that was the case, that the reason he knew so much about her, the reason he had financed her life, known every intricate detail about her and followed her here was because he was her biological father but now all she could do is hope that she was wrong, and have faith that he was telling the truth.

She couldn't remember when he became more than a job to her, more than a means to an end, more than protocol and procedure, when did she stop looking at him as an asset and when did she start seeing him as a man? She had dismissed the lingering suspicions, the unanswered questions and had successfully put all her feeling towards him in a small neat box, but they had outgrew the box and now they covered far to much surface to be contained until she knew indefinitely who she was to him and who he was to her. She didn't want to know the truth because either way she got burned, it was a catch 22, but either way she felt her feelings were being misplaced and she wouldn't be at ease until he made it crystal clear.

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><p>She must have been running on autopilot, because she didn't remember packing up her desk, couldn't remember getting in her car and she had no recollection of the drive she took nor how she made it in front of his safe house.<p>

She knocked impatiently and wiggled the door knob until the rattle could be heard from the other side and the click of the lock echoed in the air, she brushed past Dembe who gave her a curious look, his eye brows knitted but nonetheless he made room for her to enter. She walked into the foyer and into the living room searching for him, she made it past the kitchen and into his study but his absence still lingered. Out of the corner of her eye she saw his fedora placed at the bottom of the staircase, lying right on top the pedestal. She moved in its direction and lightly touched his hat at she ascended the stair case.

"Miss Keene." Dembe called out, "Now might not be a good time, Mr. Reddington is preoccupied."

"This cannot wait." She hissed at him, and immediately regretted being so brass when Dembe had been nothing but kind. She continued her way up but again was interrupted.

"Miss Keene, if you just wait a while, or come back in a little bit, I'm sure Mr. Reddington will make time for you but right now..." He was making his way up the staircase, two at a time trying to catch up with her.

Lizzie ignored his warning and insistence that she come back, her own thoughts had scared her half to death and she needed closure and clarification and she needed it now.

"I'm sorry that I'm going to interrupt his afternoon nap but I'm sure..." Her voice cracked as her hands turned the door knob to his room and gasped at the sight that greeted her.

So many emotions flickered through her eyes, and she was able to reflect every single one except the last one...She could feel Dembe behind her and her cheeks flushed a deep shade of red, while her eyes tried to look anywhere but the middle of his room where his bed lay.

Red looked like a deer in headlights, his face showing no other emotion then complete and utter shock though she could of sworn she saw a flicker of guilt before he reached for the sheet and covered himself up while Agent Navabi sunk deeper into the bed and tangled herself into his body and hid her face in the crook of his neck.

"You were right Dembe, this can wait." She said before turning on her heels and walking away.

She could hear Red calling for her, telling her to stay, asking her to wait for him, but she was already too far gone, for the both of them.

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><p>Samar chuckled lightly as she searched for the articles of clothing that had been thrown all over the room in the heat of lust and passion, trying to make herself look presentable and leave at his request.<p>

"I feel like your daughter just walked in on us having sex." She said humorously while sliding her pants up.

Red sat at the end of the bed, hunched over with both elbows resting on his knees, he shot her a look.

"She isn't my daughter." He leered.


	2. White Horse

Thank you so much for the reviews, I hope you enjoy this chapter and plz let me know what you guys think. Also I write on my phone so forgive me for my mistakes.

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><p>The days passed, albeit slowly, and with each passing day, they turned into weeks and eventually those weeks turned into months. Before long the chilling winter storms gave way to the wet spring showers in May, and she was reminded that time does not stand still, and she focused on tomorrow and never allowed herself the self-deprivation of dwelling on days passed. It was much easier to act normally and unhindered then she would of imagined which was an indication to her that this job had changed her, Tom had changed her and he had changed her. She couldn't remember when she had buried the naive woman she once was and when she turned into this jaded, cynic of a person who no longer took interest in anything other than doing her job.<p>

She used to be a bright shiny person, a rare brilliant diamond that glistening in even the most unforgiving light, but somewhere in the course of the last year, she had lost her sparkle, and the fire that used to burn deep within her, had burned out long ago, and there was nothing left to light the darkness within or space for the smoke and ashes to clear. She wondered if she was born to suffer, born with a disadvantage, she had never felt so lost and empty before, and she wondered if she had always felt this way? Maybe she buried her feelings under the protection and love her adoptive father gave her, maybe all the deceit and lies that Tom had told her gave her a false sense of security and contentment , maybe all this time she had mastered the art of denial and had swept everything under the rug until there was no more room to hide secrets and push feelings away, and now she was left broken, but she was sure she was never whole to begin with.

Who was she? She didn't even know, she had a false sense of identity as well and she couldn't move forward, she couldn't see past today and into tomorrow because she had no idea what was in her past, her history, her beginning was unknown and inconclusive and it made her feel unreal, inhuman and incapable of normalcy. Everything about her, every detail, every relationship, every experience, even every feeling was a lie, everything about her was ingrained in deception and falsification, nothing was real and nothing made sense and it left her feeling empty, she couldn't remember when she stopped feeling like a person anymore, and when she started acting robotic.

Life went on, the procedure of the job took over and she was thankful it didn't allow much thought of anything else, especially her relationship with Red. She chastised herself for letting the lines they had written in the sand disappear as he found a way to break down her walls and then she further berated herself for using his own metaphor to describe their relationship. Everything remained the same between them, at least that's what she worked so hard to accomplish. They hadn't spoken of the incident since he tried to offer up a half hearted explanation to which she dismissed and tried to be as convincing as possible in conveying her disinterest in his extracurricular activities, it was the first time his voice slightly stuttered and his tone unsure. If anything, it should of given her a lit bit of satisfaction but all it did in the end is dig her deeper into melancholy. She didn't even know why her walking in on him with Samar affected her, but Red did make her feel like the center of his world, just like his ex-wife had told her, and somewhere along the lines, he had become the center of here as well. Maybe that's why she felt the way she did... She felt like she had lost a piece of him, and in turn the only piece of her that wasn't shattered or tainted was now taken. He had made her feel special, like she was the sun and he orbited around her, maybe that's why jealousy reeled it's ugly head, and he had even predicted it would, she had grown accustomed to the fact that she was the only woman in his life, the only person he would move mountains and walk through fire for and now all his comforting words had become trivial. And they both danced around each others feelings and carefully chose every word before they spoke.

"I understand that I'm relatively new and that you have procedure and protocol already in place but I have experience going undercover and I'm trained in combat duty, I'm not trying to step on your toes but I also know first hand how dangerous it can be if something goes wrong or If your cover is blown, an organization like ISIS will not settle for merely killing you, they will use you as a pawn to cause massive fear in the U.S. And make sure you die a slow and painful death for the public to see." Samar's eyes were genuinely concerned, her voice was warningly but it lacked sternness, Liz knew that she was only trying to protect her but it still didn't make the dislike for her any less. What was it with everyone trying to shelter her? Acting like she was made of porcelain.

They stood face to face in the conference room of the Black-site, she could see Cooper and Ressler from the corner of her eye watching with Interest. She cut Samar off before she said another word.

"I'm fully capable of defending myself, I'm an FBI agent, I went through extensive training at Quantico, I know how to take care of myself, I've been undercover before..."

Liz didn't get the chance to debate her point because Red interjected, she let out a heavy sigh and out of recent habit rolled her eyes at the sound of his voice. She had almost forgotten that he was in the room with all of them. She turned and slightly looked over her shoulder at him.

"Agent Navabi is right, this isn't your run of the mill criminal, we are talking about a ruthless terrorist organization who are recruiting boys as young as five or six and not to mention the fact that they are persuading people of western origin to join their cause and fight their war. Have you seen what they are doing to American journalists? Samar is ethnically middle eastern, she will not cause suspicion by her presence because she looks the part, if something goes wrong and your identity is compromised which will happen because you will stick out like a sore thumb, and then they will view it as them hitting the jackpot. A young, freckled faced, blue eyed, innocent looking American woman, who happens to be an FBI agent..." Red's tone was abrasive and stern, his eyes pleaded with hers to let this one go, to back down and wash her hands of this operation but she couldn't stop herself from putting up a fight.

"I think Agent Navabi is right."

And for the first time in months she had let a spec of emotion flicker through her eyes, she gave him a knowing look, one that others wouldn't notice any underlying meaning behind but to him it meant everything. He expected it to come long before but she has been so stoic and indifferent and had acted so normal that it scared him, the realization that she was becoming a product of the environment he had pushed her into , that somehow he had corrupted the optimistic girl she was and turned her into the ice queen she had become.

She quickly regained her ground, and as soon as the emotion crept to the surface, it was pushed back into oblivion.

"I would be in a burka, how will my identity be compromised?" She asked impatiently.

"Things go wrong all the time Lizzie, we might get separated and what if shit hits the fan and I'm not there to protect you?" He asked, the timber of his voice exposing the vulnerability in his words. "I can't save you if they make you for a fed and hold you captive."

Lizzie couldn't help but let out a self-deprecating laugh.

"I'm not a damsel in distress and you are not my Prince Charming." She exclaimed through gritted teeth, "I'm not a princess and this isn't a fairytale, I'm a grown women who can fend for herself, I don't need anyone, especially you to be my defender and protector, I've taken care of myself for the past thirty odd years in your absence, and I'm still fully capable of doing it in your presence."

Red bit his lower lip to keep him from talking, he didn't want this exchange of words to turn into a full blown war between the two of them but he was also thankful that he was able to see her show some sort of emotion towards him that wasn't choreographed or orchestrated, for the first time in months she was raw and genuine. He took a deep breath and prepared himself for his next words, he knew they would sting but he cared far too much for her to take the fall on this. He just hoped that eventually she would understand the meaning behind his actions and realize that she was the single most important person in his life and come hell or high water he would go to any limit to take care of her.

He cleared his throat and averted his gaze.

"Either Agent Navabi accompanies me or I call the whole thing off."

_I was a dreamer before you went and let me down, _

_now it's too late for you and your white horse to catch me now _


	3. Open Wounds

Not happy with this chapter but I needed something to get Lizzies wheels turning and to set the stage for a big confrontation.

Thank you for all the reviews and follows, Im kinda obsessed with James Spader and this Red/Lizzie ship, I tried to like Tom, I like Ressler, but I don't like anyone for Lizzie than than Red and I don't think Red will ever love anyone as much as lizzie.

Let me know what you think, and thanks again for reading/accepting a new lizzington writer. P.S. I have no Beta, I actually write the chapters in-between spreadsheets of campaign finances/disctricts or while in class lol.

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><p>"Lizzie, I know what you're thinking but I can assure you..." Red was following her into the elevator, trying to make some sort of amends by explaining himself but she had shut off herself to him again like a steel trap and wouldn't let him explain his actions. He wanted to make everything right between them but he didn't know how when they both retreated to pretending certain things didn't happen and walk on eggshells when around each other.<p>

She almost had one foot inside the elevator before she spun around so fast that it almost gave him whiplash, strands of her unruly hair fell on her face, and he wondered if she had ever looked more beautiful to him then now, or maybe his eyes just missed the sight of her, the smell of her shampoo, or the whiff of her scent that enveloped him like a kids comfort blanket, making him feel like he was at home, something that was so foreign to him that he never thought he would regain that sense of contentment and fulfillment.

But she was his savior,

She was his second chance

And by the looks of it, she would never know because he was a coward, he sighed heavily, composing himself and controlling his facial features, making sure they stayed indifferent because he was sure that whatever she was about to say would be meant to hurt him, get a reaction out of him or make him feel guilt and loss. But he had felt enough of those emotions for the past 20 years, he was already a puzzle with a thousand pieces and most of them were already lost or missing, and he feared they would never be found. He perched his lips together because he didn't want want to seem effected by her words, not to prove to her anything about his ego or pride but he knew she would one day have regrets and he didn't want her to worry that her words had stung. If only she knew how deep that valley of his ran, how far he would go for her, what he would sacrifice for her well-being and safety, what he would give to be the source of her happiness instead of the reason for her sadness, she would never have to question the depth of his love, and no matter how much she thought she felt for him, she could never love him to the extent he loved her. It was physically, spiritually and emotionally impossible.

"No, you don't know what I'm thinking," she started her voice smooth and clear, holding a solid tone but the venom seared from underneath even with her attempts to control her pitch. "If you knew what I was thinking, or better yet if you were smarter, you would stop talking to me right now and just walk away."

This man drove her crazy and it was her fault that she let him, he walked into her life and destroyed her world and yet she still couldn't win the war against her heart and her head, it was infuriating trying to convince herself that she hated him, she wanted to believe that was the emotion she felt towards him and wanted to project it to him every chance she got but one look at him, or a look at the way he looked at her, like she held everything that was sacred to him, always stopped her in her tracks.

"Whatever it is that you think you know, Lizzie, I assure you that your misconceptions are skewed by the emotions you think you are feeling but they have no real bearing on the underlying reasons of the jealousy and hurt that you have been trying to desperately disguise as indifference and disgust of my choice of conquests, you are wasting your time and energy on thinking that anyone will ever come before you in my life, you are my life, you are the sun, and my world revolves around you, and only you." He looked her dead in they eyes, biting the side of his lip when he noticed that she was about to pounce.

She laughed bitterly, "Your wife did tell me that you had a way of making a woman feel like she was the center of your universe, Red." She stepped a few feet back until she was inside the elevator and pushed the descend button. "Is that your defense mechanism for compensating for the things you lack? Because no matter how sly you think you are, how charming you can seem, under your well-tailored suits, the plethora of fedoras you don, the fear you inflict on people, the millions you have in the bank or even the rich baritone of your voice, under it all, you are just a sad excuse for a human being. An old washed up ghost of a man you once were, your wife didn't want you, your own daughter doesn't even want anything to do with you so what would make you think that I would waste any emotion other than regret that I ever let you into my life, and hatred…" Her chest was rising and falling in synchrony with the blood boiling in her veins, the doors of the elevator began to close, "Every single fiber of my being hates you." She stated as a single tear trickled down her face before she disappeared, he made no move to stop her or the elevator from closing in on him.

Inside the elevator Lizzie let herself break down and mourn what she assumed was the end of their relationship, she flinched when she replayed her words back in her head, if it was possible, she would of sworn that they hurt her just as much, if not more than him. He showed no emotion, he stood stoic and proud, it was only when he averted his gaze and refused to look her in the eye again that he proved he wasn't made of stone and that he too, was capable of being burned.

She hated herself, she hated him for turning her into this woman she despised, she hated that she cared about him, no… she didn't just care about him, she loved him, and she knew he loved her but she was left with so many unanswered questions and vague answers and this big black hole inside her heart, an uncertainty in her life. She had nobody anymore, her mother was dead, her biological father was absent, her adoptive father was dead and her husband? Or the person who was hired to enter her life and deceive her into marrying him, he was gone too. She was no better than Red, she had nobody.

He was the only constant in her life, one man who would go to any extreme or extent to ensure her safety and well-being, someone who devoted his life to keeping her alive. But, why? Who was she to him? And then something punched her in the gut with the force strong enough to knock her out, a feeling crippled up inside of her suffocating her from within. What if he lied? What if he really is my biological father? What if I miss read his fascination and protectiveness over me? Her heart sank even further into the pit of her stomach.

Outside the elevator, Red made his way back to where Samar was standing, going over the undercover operation. He felt the urge to chase after Lizzie but used all his restraint to keep from going after her. He knew better than to have a conversation in the midst of anger and resentment and jealousy. He would wait for her to come around. In the mean time, he would bury the feelings she had conjured up in him, people have said or did much worse to him in the past, but there was something about hearing all your insecurities and fears thrown in your face by the one person in the world you would gladly lay your life down for that made her harsh words slice deeper and ooze more blood than any physical injury was capable of.

"Samar, darling, I trust that you are ready and adequately prepared." He asked placing his hat onto his head.

"Always." She stated as she let him guide her to the exit.


	4. Almost Doesn't Count

Thank you so much for the wonderful reviews, sorry for the delay, the holidays have been really hectic for me, that coupled with a little writers block kept me from posting this chapter. Apparently I love quotes and declarations of love and loss haha, I hope you like this chapter, I had to split it up because it was getting too long, let me know what you think, I don't know if I'm satisfied with it and excuse me if there are any spelling or grammar mistakes, it was all written on my iPhone sans a betta.

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><p>Someone wise once said that death is not the greatest loss in life, but the greatest loss is what dies inside us while we live.<p>

We have the power to set things in motion, we make decisions each and every day, and every decision we make has a consequence, we plan for what is ahead, we make sacrifices, we make choices and stick by our convictions, all the while we fool ourselves into believing that we have complete control over our lives, that we create our destiny when in the grand scheme of things we control so little but continue to find solace in the ignorance that we actually possess free will.

Because even if we have all our ducks in a row, a clear cut plan, a fool proof sketch of what we want to happen and how we want it to happen, once we roll the dice, once a plan is set into motion, nothing is in our control, we just have to stand there and wait for the outcome. Life is just like a game of cards, each one of us hoping for the luck of the draw and that is all we can do, is _hope_ that in the end what's meant to be, will be.

But he was used to a life of uncertainty, he had chosen a life of crime and manipulation, he was accustomed to putting himself in predicaments in which the odds were more often than not against him. He was a criminal, a fugitive who had spent the last twenty years of his life avoiding being caught, and she was sure that he would of spent the rest of his life avoiding arrest if he had so wished, and she also knew that if he ever wanted to break his agreement, he could vanish again in the blink of an eye and she would never see him again and the FBI would never come close to capturing the fourth most wanted fugitive.

Liz knew he was smart, but he was also highly intelligent and calculating, his natural abilities were magnified to the extreme because he used them to his advantage, he studied, people, places, things. He made sure to keep up on his literature, literally and figuratively; this man knew every miniscule detail of every single person who was after him and their families and associates. Knowledge truly was power and provided him with a head start over all his dealings. He seemed almost invincible to her, God-like and metaphorical, he was the epitome of every mythical character brought to life.

But today, he was more like Achilles; he made one small mistake, one deviation in the plan that could of set the whole world on fire, who knew that the man who was supposed to be immortal had one moment of weakness.

She was not like him, maybe their time together had weathered away some of her optimism in life and theory, maybe he made her jaded and cynical of the world but at the end of the day, she was who she was, the woman who Sam had raised her to be. But she was not as strong as him, she was not willing to let him play with his fate, she wouldn't condone the predicaments he put himself in.

It had never happened to her before, she was always a Mecca for a whirlwind of emotions, there was always a feeling that projected itself onto her face and body language to either mirror what was inside or try and hide it from others. She had never, ever felt this way before. She was used to being an open book, wearing her heart on her sleeve and being a terrible liar.

And suddenly her breath caught in her throat, her lungs unable to supply any air to her brain for function and her hands balling themselves into fists until they lost all their coloring but a ghostly white that mirrored the look of nothingness on her face.

It was like having the wind knocked out of you

A deer caught in the headlights

You biggest fear and scariest nightmare come alive

It actually took her breath away.

She was still alive, but all it took was a bullet aimed at his head, the sound of the gun unlocking and cocking and the trigger being pulled that was aimed at the center of his forehead and she lost the ability to think, feel, or breathe. All she could do was watch the surveillance camera from thousands of miles away.

And in that moment, something died inside her, even though he didn't. She watched from the surveillance camera inside the post office as a millisecond proved to be the difference between life and death but knowing that he had once again come out unscathed did nothing to settle her heart, something inside had already died and it would never, ever be brought back to life. It wasn't like the time she was saved from a burning house, or the loss of her biological father and mother, it didn't phase her like the betrayal of Tom or the fact that her whole life had been a lie, including their marriage. What surprised her most is that it was unlike what she felt after the loss of the father that had raised her, even the loss of Sam didn't suffice for the loss she felt with almost losing Raymond.

And then she realized how sad the word almost really was...

He almost died

She almost lost him

He almost left this world thinking she hated him

She almost never got the chance to tell him

They almost made it

She told him she hated him, called him a monster and wished that he had never entered her life, she wondered if the last words she spoke were the ones that resonated in his ears in the moments he thought were sure to be his last. She would of never forgiven herself, never forgiven him for leaving her alone, and she would of never gotten over his death, it would of haunted her like the venom in her words sliced through her veins and poisoned her very being.

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><p>She tossed and turned in bed, images of his face from hours earlier still fresh on her mind and tattooed and imprinted with no hope of ever eroding. She hadn't seen him, hadn't talked to him, and hadn't heard of his whereabouts and it made her uneasiness almost unbearable. She had to see him, she had to make sure he was alive and unscathed and she needed to apologize and she needed him to forgive her.<p>

She also needed answers now more than ever, she needed to know why he had picked her, why he knew every single detail of her life, why he knew her better than she knew herself, how he knew her father, and what was she to him. She shuddered at the possibilities, she didn't know how to characterize or compartmentalize her feelings for him, it scared her to death, she needed to know if these feelings were platonic and familial or…. She couldn't even let herself finish her thought because of the knots in her stomach and the fear in her heart. She took a couple deep breaths and tried to calm her nerves to no avail, either way she had to know the truth, she had to face it head on and she would make him tell her at the least if he was her biological father, regardless of the outcome she needed to know because she had spent too long trying to block her feelings towards him, at least the answer would bring her peace, even though there was a chance it could also gift her with shame and embarrassment and most of all a shattered and broken heart.

She got up and put some clothes on, brushed out her tousled hair and put a bit of make-up on. She decided to go confront him at the safe house she knew he would be at in a couple of hours but first she needed a drink or two to get off the edge and to give her some liquid courage to confront her biggest fears; her paternity and his rejection.

She threw back a couple drinks at a bar near her place and blew time by rehearsing a speech she planned to use on him. When she was satisfied with what she would say and when the alcohol had relaxed her nerves, Liz paid her tab and headed his way. He should've arrived at the safe house by now and would have a good hour to unwind before she drove to his place.

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><p>She got out of her car and made her way up the steps of the safe house, her fingers shaking as she balled them up into a fist and knocked on the door. An after thought occurred, what if he wasn't alone with just Dembe? What if Samar was inside with him, a shiver went up and down her spine and she shuddered involuntarily. This is a mistake she thought as panic overtook all other emotions, she was ready to chicken out and run back to her car even though she was sure that if he was inside, he had heard her pull up and walk up the steps.<p>

Before she could collect her thoughts, she heard the click of the lock and then watched as the door swung open.

And there he stood, right in front of her in the flesh.

She took a deep breath and sighed heavily, trying to calm down the rapid beating of her chest; it felt like her heart could jump right out of her body at any given moment. He stood in a pair of grey slacks and its matching vest and a white dress shirt with his sleeves rolled up and the top buttons undone, even slightly disheveled, he still looked put together, and more appealing if that were possible.

He held the door open with one hand and on the other he held a glass with his favorite drink in it.

"Lizzie," He breathed her name while his eyes danced in tune with the singsong way he chose to say her name. His voice would be the death of her, it was seduction, power, nirvana, and ecstasy all rolled up into one. It was like eating the forbidden fruit in the Garden of Eden, it was the worst form of temptation because she knew the consequences going in but it didn't stop her from wanting to desperately take a bite out of the apple and gladly face the consequences afterward.

"I must say, I wasn't expecting you this early." He chewed at the inside of his cheek before the side of his face lifted slightly upwards in a sly smile, Lizzie let out a huff, _smug bastard_, she thought. He knew she would come to him, she couldn't even see any indication that he feared she would walk away. She should of felt offended like she did when he expected and was right about her jealousy towards him giving his attention to another woman, the possessiveness she felt over him scared her half to death.

She didn't move and she didn't speak a word, all she did was study him, his eyes met hers and she completely fell apart. Her eyes glistened with tears that began to slowly run down her cheek before picking up speed and making her face a makeshift waterfall.

Red's playful tone and amused eyes quickly turned to worried and concerned. His breath hitched and lips parted, he knitted his eyebrows in confusion.

"Lizzie, sweetheart, what's wrong?" He asked while opening the door further and reaching out to guide her inside the house. He hated to see her upset, or angry but nothing was worse than seeing her cry, he wished that for once he could be the one to put a smile on her face, the reason for her happiness instead of the cause for her tears and pain.

As soon as his hand made contact with her arm, she quickly shrugged it off, "No." She gasped, her voice coming out raspy and thick, "Don't." She warned with the gentle shake of her head. The tears continued to flow in unison.

"I have nightmares, still, to this day about the fire, about losing Sam, about Tom and my life of lies, they are vivid and they seem so real and painful and terrifying, sometimes I feel like I actually died in my dreams. But you want to know what's so wonderful about my nightmares?" Lizzie looked up at Red who was listening to her intently, he seemed frozen into place, unable to move or speak. All he could give her was a shake of the head.

"My nightmares are not real, I get to wake up from them, but today I woke up into a nightmare, I thought you were going to die, I thought I would never see you again, I thought I would never get to hear your voice, I thought that the things I said to you were the last words that were running through your head and then I realized something…no, I acknowledged something that I refused to admit to you or myself that losing you would be like hearing every single goodbye ever said to me- said all at once."

She would've sworn that she would of never bared witness to Raymond Reddington rendered speechless. But there he stood, stoic and still and she could see the flicker of surprise in his eyes, a moment of weakness in which he showed her raw emotion before composing himself again. She didn't want calculated and thought out responses, she wanted truth and honesty, before he could muster up a response, she used the sleeve of her coat to pat her eyes and nose and walked right past him inside the house.

Red let out a breath he wasn't aware he was holding, the veins in his neck protruding while he cupped the glass of amber liquid quite forcibly and closed the door shut. He took a minute to rest his head against the oak wood and locked it back into place. He knew she was vulnerable and scared and he tried to mentally prepare himself for her declarations and his responses, she wasn't thinking clearly, she was upset and scared of losing someone who was a constant in her life, someone who provided fluidity and comfort and familiarity, he had to be careful and tread lightly, she made it clear earlier that she wished she would of never met him, and even though she might feel remorseful about her words, he knew she meant them, he wasn't good enough to fill any position in her life, least of all the person he wanted to be to her.

He walked through the house and found her pacing the kitchen, she had taken off her coat and looked absolutely breathtaking with her hair swaying around her face and her hands on each of her hips while lightly biting the side of her lip, she walked in circles clearly deep in thought.

He took a big swig of his whiskey and let the liquid travel down his throat before letting out a sigh and slowly making his way towards her.


	5. The Lion In Love

**I started writing and then couldn't stop, I don't know how good this is, or if I rambled the entire chapter but I let my words and feelings guide me and it resulted into this. (I don't use a beta and write on my iPhone, I wish i had the time to really develop the characterization and dialogue these two characters deserve because they are truly fascinating. Let me know what you guys think, next chapter might be the last, if it ends up being as long as this one. This is the the calm before the storm and the fist few sounds of lightening and rain. The next chapter will be a lot of dialogue and maybe some sex, we shall see. **

Sorry if it sucks. And all mistakes are mine and then some since I didn't even give this chapter the courtesy of a once over haha it was just too long to bother with.

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><p>If she only knew the emotions that her mere presence alone invoked within him let alone what her absence did to his soul. She was the sun, his sun and the very reason for his existence, the purpose of his life was to revolve around her and it was something that was not a hindrance nor obligation but it was a position that he not only was willing to take but did so with honor and integrity. If she could only see herself through his eyes, if she would retreat and let her guard down and realize that the man standing in the doorframe, leaning his shoulder against the entrance with one foot draped around the other and hands rooted deep in the pocket of his slacks would walk through fire for her- literally, than she would be less inclined to treat him like a thorn on her side.<p>

His devotion to her was immeasurable by any capacity or quantity, the ache that resonated so deep within his heart spilled through his entire body and flooded his well being and swallowed him whole. Every atom and cell he was made from to the blood that ran up and down his veins and each breath his body allotted him to breathe in and out were all a direct result of her existence- he lived and breathed just for her. You could not classify this level of feeling or affection with just a singular word or even a list of the most amorousness of words. Because there are not enough words, not enough sayings, not enough emotions that have been classified to put all together in all the languages of this world that could make up even a quarter of what she meant to him.

Who would of thought that all those years ago, in the remnants of ashes and dust, through the cloud of smoke and the smell of burning flesh, he would find her. She was so young and so scared, and already scarred from the life her parents had led and the circumstances she was born into. Just like every baby in this world, she was born innocent and pure and didn't even have the luxury to remain that way for at least the remainder of her adolescence. This life had been cruel to her since she took her first breath; she was scarred from the very beginning and was never given a fair chance. She became jaded and cynical of the world at a very young age, her eyes reflected the pain and suffering of a life long lived, not one that had just barely started. She became an innocent victim, a little girl who was at the wrong place at the wrong time, one who was a product of her environment, born and bread by two undeserving parents who left her there to burn and disintegrate into the flames. She didn't know how to love because she had never been shown love.

And now here she stood in front of him, many, many years later and she is no longer that little girl who needed saving, the doe eyed child clinging to her bunny and starring at him like he was her salvation when he pulled her through the flames- a moment they both tried to forget but both wore the scars of evidence that the fire wasn't merely a nightmare, but it was both their realities. That fire has haunted him every day- she has haunted him every night. She was his responsibility and he didn't take that lightly. He sent her to Sam and Sam had done the best he could to put her back together, and Red had kept a close eye on her through the years. She had served two purposes, a means to an end- yes, she was. But he had also lost his life, he had lost a wife and a daughter and he might have been a monster but when he saw her engulfed by the flames that would turn her into ashes, he had a redefining moment- she was his redemption, his opportunity to act selflessly, a chance to do something honorable and righteous so he could hate the person he had become a little bit less. The life he chose had turned him into a titan, a demon with no sense of remorse or empathy- he took life without hesitation, without thinking or feeling. He protected her because of his guilt and because she held the answers to what happened to his family. He would one day use her to bait the person who was number one on his list and he would one day, after decades of searching, finally find the answers he was looking for- through her.

He knew who she was and had he been reckless and consumed by his passion to find his answers he could of used her to get them long ago, but when he heard her cries and when he looked into her eyes and saw the fear and terror that resonated back, the beast in him retreated and he used the last speckle of redeeming value left in him, to save her- and than he found that he couldn't ever let her go. He made it his job to know every single detail of the people who wanted to kill him, their associates and families included- and he had known everything about her when she was four because of that fact but after the fire, she became his obsession- a second chance that only she could give him.

He followed her through the years, stalked her even- he watched closely as Sam raised her from a child to an adolescent, he followed her from her awkward teenage years and witnessed her turn into a beautiful and incredibly smart women who Sam had helped heal from the demons of her past. He had raised her to be kind and considerate, smart and brave, but he had also sheltered her from the exploits of her fellow teenagers, that had made her vulnerable and had provided an easy way for Tom Keen to lie his way into her life and deceive her into believing and creating a future with him.

And here she was, post Tom Keen, after her divorce had been annulled and she became a free woman. After he had come into her life and ruined everything she had worked so hard to create. He had torn her world apart, he had exposed her husband as a spy who was hired to pretend to love her and find him. He had taken away the baby she was going to adopt, had mercifully killed his best friend and the only father she had ever known. All those years that Sam had spent mending and healing the pain and scars from her past and it only took him a couple months to reopen and renew the pain and devastation of her past.

And somewhere in this timeline, somewhere between the events of the past and future- she became more than an obsession, more than a means to an end, more than an asset in his ploy to get the answers he had been searching for. He had loved her from the moment she wrapped her arms around him and he carried her through the fire, the pain and the disfigurement to his body that saving her caused was just a reminder of his love and devotion to her. He wore those scars proudly, they served so much more purpose than the result of having a heroic moment, they meant that their meeting was not by chance, it wasn't about being in the right place at the right time- it meant that it was predestined, everything aligned perfectly that day so that their paths would cross. In the midst of than and now his adoration grew from a genuine platonic love to something he had never felt before, not even with his first wife.

She wanted answers now and he knew he couldn't give the most important ones to her but he also didn't want to ruin the one last memory of her past she clung to, the supposed memory of a righteous father who carried his daughter through the flames when in fact that said father had left her there to burn within them. But he had no choice now, she was here and he couldn't lose her. He wished he could be the person to bring joy to her life instead of the one to wreak havoc on it. He wished he could be the man to show her how much she was worth, to love and cherish her and make her believe in a happy ending, but he was nowhere near worthy.

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><p>He let out a ragged breath and tried to suppress a small smile that tugged at his lips, even though his heart was plagued with so much distress, she still had a way to find that little bit of light amidst all the darkness that he carried within him. She always knew how to bring it out.<p>

"Sweetheart, you're going to make yourself queasy walking in circles like that, I'm getting dizzy just watching you." He said in the lightest tone his voice could supply.

She stopped abruptly, tucked a strand of hair behind her ears and placed both hands on her hips. She faced him and simultaneously let out a long dragged out breath. She swallowed hard and he could practically hear the clogs turning in her head as she tried to work through her thoughts and rehearse her words before she spat them out.

Her lips quivered, and her voice came out hoarse and cracked with every word. "You almost died." She stated, looking directly into his eyes, not blinking for fear that he would disappear. It was evident to him at that very moment that she was still in disbelief. Her eyes burned into his and reflected back the most sincerest raw emotion he had ever seen her direct towards him, she hid nothing- her eyes told a story of a loss that she was experiencing even though it did not exist.

He starred right back at her, unable to move or flinch from the doorway, his eyed locked onto hers and refusing to look anywhere else, he knew this was detrimental, he was playing with fire again but he had never seen her so open with him and he couldn't turn away. "Almost, Lizzie…Almost, It was a close call, but I'm here now, and all is well and back to normal." His voice was as stoic as his stance, it flowed with fluidity and indignation that all was well and right in the world. But she didn't believe him, didn't trust his words and was no longer soothed by his voice.

She let out a snort, which was followed by a painful laugh, and she finally broke eye contact and started pacing the vicinity of the kitchen again. "Nothing is normal, how many times are you going to put yourself and me in this situation? How many more times am I going to have to feel the loss and grief of you "almost" dying? I died today in there with you, a part of me died and I will never get that part back, and every other time you do this to yourself and to me, it will continue to eat away at me, you will continue to take parts of me until there is nothing left and I won't allow that to happen again, you choose this life for yourself but It won't be a life that I agree to live…"

"I would never ask you to live the life I do, I never have and never will…" He cut her off of her rampage, hurt by the insinuation that he had chosen the life of a criminal. "Do you think that I chose to be a criminal, that I chose to live a life on the run, an existence filled with death and murder and all the ramifications that come with being number four on the top ten most wanted fugitives in America? Do you think for a second that I went from having a wife and a little girl, from graduating at the top of my class from the naval academy and on my way to being somebody heroic and living a life of service and being a noble man who lived a dignified life and willingly turned into the monster that stands in front of you today?" His voice never staggered and remained at a low and calm pitch put there was no way to hide the venom in them, and the disappointment that they carried and directed towards Lizzie.

His words and the passion behind them halted her pacing; they always did though. He could be talking about the weather or watching pain dry but his voice and demeanor was so captivating that he always managed to get and keep your attention. She flinched at his words, like he had slapped her across the face. She had spent too much time blaming him for everything and looking at him through the eyes of a federal agent instead of looking at him as a person, as the man that stood in front of her.

"Your not a monster," Her voice cracked and shoulders slouched in defeat, the sting of tears making it hard to look at him as she tried to blink them away or finally let them fall- she wasn't sure.

"I wasn't born a monster Lizzie, in the words of Rousseau, men are born good but society corrupts them, and although you might view me as a monstrosity, my words will always ring true- If you are ever in need, I will be there and I will do anything I have to, to keep you safe because everything I do, I do for you and every man has the right to risk his own life in order to save it."

"What does that mean, Red?" She shook her head, baffled by his words. The tears stung against her mascara and eyeliner and finally started to descend down her face unashamedly. His words were always so powerful and his voice filled with devotion as if her being breathed life into his lungs and kept his heart beating. He hypnotized her, put her under a spell, and made her feel like the center of his universe- everything his ex-wife had said he would do.

"What are you saying? That I'm your life?" She asked, her eyes pleading for him to once not beat around the bush with vague answers and requesting that she read between his poetic lines. He just stood there, gave her a knowing smile, the one that answered her questions without actually verbalizing them. His eyes said it all, even if he tried to compose himself. She was the one weakness that he had; she could either revive or destroy him.

"Do you know how many times you saved me? How many incidents that you sacrificed yourself- your life for mine? You almost killed Ressler for that code to get you out the box so I wouldn't die, Anslo, and Berlin knew you had a weakness and it was me. Why? Why am I so important to you? Why would you spent weeks repairing that damn music box just so it would comfort me when I found out the truth about Tom, You followed me everywhere I went, watched over me, knew everything about me, financed my life- all without me knowing. Who am I to you?"

"Everything, Lizzie." Red kept his emotions in check but watching his Lizzie in turmoil and seeing her cry was undoing all the reserve left in him. "You are everything to me." He stated enunciating every single word, making it perfectly clear for her to understand.

She let out a growl of frustration, clenched her hands into fists as the veins on her neck protruded out from the anger that swept through her body and across her face, she was ready to burst into a million pieces, no longer able to hold the rage that had been building inside of her.

"Stop it." She yelled, her fists unclenching and moving to her temples trying to calm herself down. "That doesn't work anymore, nobody loves a random person to that extent, I've never felt that kind of love in my life, not from my biological father, not from Sam, not from my college boyfriend and certainly not from Tom. Who are you to me? Who am I to you? Please, I need answers…" Her anger dissipated as the tears continued to fall without end and her resolve finally broke. The anger replaced with unbearable sadness. "These feelings I have for you, I don't know how to direct them, I can't win this war between my heart and my head until I know the truth, please tell me the truth." She pleaded in a voice that neither could recognize as her own, it was filled with all the salt in her open wounds that he had poured inadvertently and would cause irrevocable damage if he didn't give her some answers.

He wanted to know what feelings she held for him, what had her so confused about how to view him as, he saw the desperation on her face and felt it with the pain in her words but something about the last few months since she had walked in on him bedding another woman- the look in her eyes was something he had never seen before. He knew long ago that she felt possessive over him, he even teased her about it constantly, he tried selfishly to charm her and make her see him as a man and not just a monster even though he knew better. She deserved so much better than him but something in his heart wouldn't let up, wouldn't stop trying to hammer away at her resolve and find a place inside her heart. His heart knew that his devotion to her, the time spent in his presence, the charming characteristics of his persona would eventually chip away at the barricades she had built between them and he knew that day that she had made amends were her feelings and found solace in them.

He wondered what she came to tell him that day, how the events would have been different if she had found him alone. Dembe had told him that she was fidgety and determined, stating she needed to talk to him. He knew it was a personal matter and he couldn't stop himself from fantasizing that she came to utter declarations of love while trying to seek answers she knew only he could give her- it was all in vain though. Her returning his love was reserved only in the deepest, hollows' parts of his heart that he only let himself entertain when he was alone or with another woman, only able to get off by closing his eyes and imagining that it was Lizzie who laid beneath him, naked in all her glory and him laying on top of her, nestled in between her legs and with every thrust, driving into home.

He slowly leaned away from the door, uncrossed his foot that laid in front of the other and made his way through the threshold that separated them. Her breath hitched and her eyes followed his every move intently. He started to unbutton his vest, his fingers working meticulously and then he worked on the last three buttons of his dress shirt, exposing his bare chest and abdomen to her. A nervousness swept through her body, goose bumps began to form on her arms and her mouth hung slightly open- he hadn't even said a word to her, hadn't laid a finger on her in an attempt to touch her and yet the sight of his impressive physique cast a bright pink blush on her cheeks and a flush from head to toe. She gulped and tried to keep her eyes fixated on his and tried to fight off the urge to stare at his exposed flesh. She knew he looked good in clothes, he always wore the hell out of his three-piece suits and they were tailored to perfection. He was not self-conscious of his body, even though he wore layers, they always molded to his frame and accentuated the parts of him that even clothing could not conceal- his strong and toned biceps that that fought against the array of Italian linen shirts he owned, the hard planes of his chest when he left the top three buttons undone or the way his pants fit against his thighs and how no matter which pair he chose to wear on any given day, they always seemed to highlight that he had an amazing ass. He kept himself in shape, or rather, the line of business he was in forced him to concentrate on a maintaining a strong physique.

Either way, he managed to attract the attention of an on slew of female suitors half his age.

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><p>His voice brought her back to reality and broke her away from her thoughts. "I have to show you something, Lizzie." He said as he walked until he stood directly in front of her. She unconsciously took a few steps away from him until her back rested against the marble island that was situated in the middle of the kitchen. She wrapped her arms around herself in an attempt to find something for her hands to do and resist the urge to reach out for him. Her gaze remained fixated on his face, searching his eyes and watching the way his mouth twitched. She could tell he was trying to suppress a smile for her own benefit which confused her because he never let an opportunity pass in which he was allotted the chance to tease her or shamelessly shock her with one of his many innuendos.<p>

"I hate that I have to destroy and take away from you another memory, you have to believe that I don't want to take any more from you than I already have, but you're seeking answers that I cannot give you yet…" Red let out a sigh at her confusion and blinked a few times, his long blonde eyelashes fluttering open and closed and nervousness etched on his face that she found endearing and irresistible to watch him even in the slightest hint of vulnerability. His eyes were storm grey and always seemed to show her exactly what he was feeling when he words would fail him.

His hands travelled to the collar of the dress shirt and pulled it off with the vest over his shoulders and down his arms until it settled at the end of his wrists. He dragged the remainder of the material down and brought both articles of clothing in between them, he lightly shook them out and laid them neatly on the counter behind her. Focusing his attention on the task and avoiding her gaze and the close proximity the two of them stood in.

That's when she got the first glimpse of the raised skin on the back of his shoulder. Her breath caught in her throat until she let out a gasp. His head shot up back at her and searched her face and eyes. He watched as the onslaught of emotions plagued her features. It was like watching a person go through the five stages of grief in a matter of seconds, he watched the denial take precedent and the shock and isolation that came with it, he witnessed the anger that was directed towards him before it was replaced with bargaining, he could see her inner turmoil and watch her trying to protect herself from the truth. The depression took precedent as she felt the loss and grief take over her body before acceptance flooded in and he could see her trying to cope and come to terms with what he had just exposed to her.

Liz felt like the world had just combusted and her body and been ripped from limb to limb, she thought she needed the truth and she had lied herself into believing she could handle the implications of knowing the answer to the one question that kept her up every night and drove her crazy with worry and wonder. Now she wished she could take back time and live in the protection of ignorance instead of being plagued with heartbreaking truth.

She lost her resolve, lost herself in the grief and finally let herself mourn. A strangled sob made its away outside and broke the silence between them, cutting the tension in the room like a knife and slicing through both of them. Her hands shook as they moved to cover her face and hold in her sobs.

"Say it." She demanded through the tears, refusing to look at him and her face still buried in her hands.

"Do you remember when you first called me a monster?" He asked without waiting for a reply. "I had saved you from the stew maker and was about to wheel you out until I went back and threw him into his own bath of his lethal concoction, giving him my own brand of justice. You pleaded with me not to make him pay and afterward you called me a monster and asked how I could justify myself. Do you remember what my answer was?"

Lizzie pulled her face from her hands and starred at him. She should feel relief and contentment of knowing that he was her father and finally understanding the role she played in his life but all she felt was turmoil and a sense of perversion intertwined with her tainted heart and mind.

When she finally met his gaze, he answered the question for her, "By keeping you alive, Lizzie." He stated, "There is an old fable called _"The Lion In Love"_…" His eyes danced and his voice set the tone to share one of his tales, he was enchanting when he told a story and even in her state of distress she couldn't help but give him her undivided attention.

"A LION once fell in love with a beautiful maiden and proposed marriage to her parents. The old people did not know what to say. They did not like to give their daughter to the Lion, yet they did not wish to enrage the King of Beasts. At last the father said: "_We feel highly honored by your Majesty's proposal, but you see our daughter is a tender young thing, and we fear that in the vehemence of your affection you might possibly do her some injury. Might I venture to suggest that your Majesty should have your claws removed, and your teeth extracted, then we would gladly consider your proposal again."_ The Lion was so much in love that he had his claws trimmed and his big teeth taken out. But when he came again to the parents of the young girl and asked for her hand in marriage, they simply laughed in his face, and bade him do his worst."

"Do you know the moral to Aesop's fable, Lizzie?" Red gritted his teeth before biting the inside of his cheek, a gesture she had become accustomed to him doing, a little one of his many quirks that made him Red, made him unique and one of a kind- it was also a mannerism of his that she had grown to love. Liz continued to stand stoic, even when Red closed the remaining distance between them by entering into her personal space while trapping her by placing a hand on either side of her body and grasping the ends of the kitchen island and leaning his body into her while his head ducked to search for her eyes. She tried to ignore his gaze until she couldn't anymore.

When her bloodshot eyes which had cried a river over this man finally met his, just like before, he wasted no time for her to answer his rhetorical questions. She inhaled his scent, and it was all consuming. His arms felt like home, his scent felt like home, she looked into his eyes and she felt at home.

He watched as she inhaled deeply, and something inside him felt a sense of male pride and a stake of claim on her, Red was inquisitive and paid attention to the smallest details, nothing passed him without notice, especially anything to do with Lizzie. He lowered his voice to barley a whisper but his deliverance was so deep and full of emotion that it rang in her ears and echoed into in the room as if he had yelled the declaration at the top of his lungs. His lips moved slowly at the same speed the words escaped from his mouth and she felt his breath on her skin, caressing her flesh and simultaneously sending a shiver up and down her spine- the intensity that he directed towards her was that of a loin- the king of all beasts- ready to pounce.

_"__Love can tame the wildest." _


	6. All The Things She Said

I'm not a smut writer, But I love sex, and I love thinking about sex with James Spader lol (I think he's just as much a freak in real life as he is in the roles he played) Just a reminder that I don't have a beta nor did I really proof read this cos it was written in the middle of the night. I hope its okay, would love to read ur thoughts. And thank you for all the follows and favs and reviews.

I also borrowed a few lines from "Hard Rock Arrangement" because theres only so many dirty things I could think of for these two characters to say to each other. It might be little OCC, though I'm sure Red is just as much a talker in bed as he is a storyteller in every other aspect but I think he could rub off on Liz, especially if the sexual tension gets as thick as it is in this fanfic.

All mistakes mine to claim and I don't own these people, I just like to play with them.

This chapter is explicit: More in language and content rather than actual sexual acts but either way you have been warned.

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><p>Her breath hitches and she tries desperately to swallow the lump in her throat. He's in her personal space-his face a mere inch from hers and both his hands clenched on either side of her body barricading her within his embrace. She should feel trapped and uneasy by the menacing position their bodies were in, she would normally avoid his gaze and try to escape the tension in the room, she could use her hands that clutched the same counter as his behind her and bring them in between their bodies and use them to push at his chest and free herself and him from the predicament that they put themselves in.<p>

But she doesn't, because she can't and because she doesn't want to. She's waited for this moment since the day they met though her mind doesn't want to admit that it's been a burden for that long so she decides to settle for the last couple months. The look in his eyes is so uncharacteristic of the person she has grown to know him as and she watches as this warrior sheds his last piece of armor before he bares himself to her. The vulnerability that seeps through those long blonde eyelashes, the stricken look on his features and the way his chest moves in perfectly synchronized harmony with the beat of his heart- she swears she can hear the thump in her ears or is it her own heart pounding ferociously to the same beat as his?

She can't handle this Red, it's almost too much that she feels the blood draining from her veins and the lightheartedness that precedes losing herself in his eyes and fainting right here and right now in her makeshift cage hoping and praying that his arms will catch and carry her through the valley of the unresolved emotions both of them have danced around for what seems like ages.

He makes her feel things- things that confuse her mind and heart and betray her logic. She's fighting an internal war within herself, fighting against the feelings, fighting against what she wants to do, fighting against what she knows she should do, and it's all because of him. And as much as she tries to turn away from what her heart wants her to feel- all she has to do is look at where her mind goes when it wanders- it's a tribute to him- a tribute to her- a beautiful reminder of what could be, of what they could be together, if only she allowed herself the happiness she deserves- if only she could find one redeeming quality in him to suffice for all the monstrosities of his past, present and future.

And finally, she has it.

He saved her

He walked through fire for her

No rhyme, no reason.

That fire turned him into the monster he is today

He would burn down the whole damn world for her

She is everything to him

His heart

His soul

His life

The reason he breathes

The reason his heart beats

The reason he wakes up every morning

Goes to sleep every night

She is his church, his salvation, his truce,

His second chance

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><p>And in the moment of clarity, every piece of the puzzle finally comes together. She thought it would feel like taking a piece of paper and crumpling it up before opening it again and trying to soothe out the wrinkles and creases but its nothing like that- and its because everything up to this point wasn't real- it was a beginning to an end and now finally in front of her stands the beginning to not only her past nor present but he's her future and its completely pure and untarnished, everything fits neatly and perfectly- its flawless.<p>

She had never seen him lose control - he was the epitome of cool, calm and collected. Yet, here he was, unmasked, unveiled and exposed to her.

She cleared her throat

"I asked you if you had ever, once, had a selfless moment." Her voice hoarse and her mind scattered, trying her best to fill the pieces of the puzzle before the moment was lost and third chance gone into the wind. "If you had ever done anything without it preceding a gain or benefit to you... If at any moment in your life you did something that offered you nothing in return…" Suddenly she broke again and tears fell freely as she began to murmur to herself more so to him.

Tilting her head to the side, mirroring one of his signature moves and refusing to meet his gaze, instead settling on the view of the night sky behind him. Their reflection from the bay window catching her eye and simultaneously taking her breath away.

His entire back covered in plains and valleys of raised flesh and scar tissue, the same pigmentation and pattern as the scar on her palm and wrist, yet she had only grazed the flames whereas he had walked through them. She could hear her pulse in her ear, her heart pounding like the beat of the drum, the sound getting louder and louder as the beat went quicker and quicker until it stopped completely.

"You saved me." It wasn't a question, or an answer she was looking for. It was a statement of momentous proportions, one, which would change the whole dynamic of their relationship, one which would ground her roots further into his. One, which had the possibility of binding them together indefinitely "I sat there and reminisced about my father saving me, about him pulling me from the fire and taking me to safety…" She whispered the words like blowing wind into a feather. She felt dazed and hypnotic, almost like she was having an out of body experience. Her lips quivered as she continued to stare at the reflection. An unsteady hand unclasped from the death grip she had on the end of the counter and tentatively reached up to his shoulder and her fingertip started to lightly trace the marks that started at the back of his shoulder blade, using their reflection as a guide. Her face was a catalyst for all the emotions running through her veins and the inner turmoil haunting the rest of her insides.

She felt his body tense and heard a hitch in his breath. "I never meant to take so much from you, I don't regret bringing light to all the lies and deceit that made up the last few years of your life…" He inhaled deeply as she continued her ministrations, sending chills down his spine. He could feel her warm breath caress the side of his cheek as every exhale blew hot air into his ear and turned him into putty at the mercy of her touch. He should of fought for dominance, but instead opted to surrender at her beck and call. "But I just couldn't bare to look you in the eyes and tell you that the only memory you had of your real father was a lie, I couldn't take that away from you…"

She searched for his eyes, "What are you saying? You carried me from the fire but you're not my father?" Her eyebrows knitted in confusion as she waited for him to answer, but instead, he just stared back at her, his eyes burning holes into hers, almost flabbergasted at the accusation, yet, he stood stoic and didn't budge. "Raymond, are you my father?" She questioned again with new vigor and strength.

She said his full name, for the first time. He gritted his teeth and suppressed a growl.

"No, Lizzie, we have been through this before." He reiterated, annoyance lingering as his words settled into the space between them. "I don't lie to you." He added to reaffirm his loyalty to being truthful with her.

Her eyes closed and she sighed in relief, all of a sudden those unsettling feelings in the pit of her stomach began to untangle and provide a release. She felt like a caged bird that was finally let free. "Prove it." She was sure she sounded desperate but nonetheless the plea was like milk and honey to his ears.

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><p>Red was stunned to say the least, his Adam's apple protruded outward as he gulped from the inclination of her words and the relief and hint of desire reflecting from the challenge in her statement? He felt dense but he couldn't bring himself to believe what he so hoped that her words meant when he read between the lines.<p>

"What do you want Lizzie?" His voice so thick and rich that it made her want to pool into a puddle at his feet. "A paternity test?" Red added with a twitch of his eye. When he spoke, the whole world stopped spinning, everything made sense, everything felt right in the world, and she felt safe because he was her home.

She would normally never of had the gall or nerve to look Raymond Reddington in the eye, with his smugness and era of arrogance and self-assurance in everything he was and everything he was made of. Yet she didn't retreat, instead she turned an inch and their foreheads almost touch. "Kiss me." It lingers in the air and she sees the shift in his eyes and his stance, he regards her for a moment and she swears that he was a second from losing control and losing himself and surrendering to the caged animal that lies beneath the his stature.

But he composes himself, his veins protruding, almost as if his body was fighting against his mind, yet he doesn't falter- doesn't submit.

"You once told me that we were partners and that's where our relationship ends-at work, you don't want me in your personal life, lizzie. You drew those boundaries." Every word he speaks sounds strained and calculated, his defenses are up again and she thinks he's playing her.

"And you once told me that the problem with drawing lines in the sand is that with a breath of air, they disappear." She bites the side of her lip and watches as pure adulterated lust and hunger takes over all his features, like a vampire who has gone far too long without the sweet taste of satiation, whose appetite has clouded all judgment and prudence as he studies his prey with a craving and desire of a lifetime of famishment. She wants that intensity aimed towards her; she wants him to do justice to his cocky attitude and egotistical persona. She wants to see first hand if the man is a mere myth or the legend he claims to be. She was sure it would be the latter by the way he carried himself and how he talked- a man who was self-assured of what he was packing and how he used it.

He wanted her blood-she wanted him to suck her dry.

And with that she let's her breath settle and it strokes his lips, erasing those invisible drawn out lines. The gesture doesn't go unnoticed by him- its symbolic message laid out crystal clear for his interpretation. She was letting her walls crumble to the ground, blurring the imaginary barriers she had built to keep him at arms length.

He looks at her conflicted with a tiny speckle of doubt tracing the outline of his pupil. "You don't want me to kiss you, Lizzie." It sounds like a plea coming from his mouth. "I would ruin you. There's too much passion inside of me, my desire and possessiveness accumulated with the obsession and intensity of the feelings I harbor for you, I would make you forgot anyone who came before me and you couldn't possibly fathom being with any one else after me."

As if on instinct, her inner walls clenched at the indignation of his words and a slickness formed in-between her legs. "I'm beginning to think you're all talk, Red." She hissed, "If you're not my father, I need you to prove it, so, kiss me."

Red wanted nothing more then to show her what she had been missing the last thirty odd years of her life, he wanted to swallow her whole, leave no inch of her untouched, - lick, lap, and bite every crevice and curve of her body, pound into her until she lost her mind- fuck her so good and thoroughly that she had no other choice but to keep coming back for more because she'd realize no other man could give it to her like he would.

But the sex he would give her wouldn't be enough in the long run- even though he knew he could manipulate her, that he had the power to persuade and take advantage of her insecurities and jealousy – He loved her too much to allow her to settle for him.

Because he knew without a shadow of a doubt she would be settling for far less then she deserved and he wouldn't let that happen. He must have wavered for too long because before he knew it she used both hands to shove his chest away and created a much-needed space between the two. "I just don't do it for you? Is that what it is?" She asked with venom leaking all over her words. "I'm not your type," She insinuated trying to keep tears at bay. "I'm no Samar, right?" She asked helplessly.

He almost lost his footing, she would never know but her words hurt him more than they could ever hurt her. Had he known that she harbored even a speckle or smidge of attraction or feelings for him, he would of never taken the bait from Samar in a moment of weakness. "Samar has nothing to do with us, she was a mistake." He sounded genuine and she could tell that he was conflicted and he didn't try to hide the guilt that shadowed over his features. But it wasn't enough for her; mental images of him on top of her, her moans that filled the room and the smell of sex that lingered in the air drove her crazy. She closed her eyes and shook her head as if that would help vanish the memory of what he looked like while he was with a woman.

"What is it then?" She asked while tapping a foot impatiently, "Are you afraid you won't be able to get it up? Did you forget to take your Viagra? Or is it that you don't want me to know that you come up a little short?" She breathed, surprised at her own words and mad at herself for becoming this sad excuse for a woman. The alcohol making her tongue loose and emotions erratic. She couldn't believe what she was saying, couldn't believe that she could harbor this much resentment and hurt towards him and hated herself for acting like a jealous wife. She was not his wife.

She could be though, because she isn't his daughter.

He laughed.

The bastard laughed at her, and his moment of vulnerability gone, his Machiavellian mask already up and at em'. His voice sounded like pure, raw sex, "Oh Lizzie, Sweetheart," She wanted to either slap that smirk off his face or sit on his lap and slide down his length until his eyes rolled to the back of his head- she just couldn't decide which option would shut him up faster. " I can assure you that my equipment is in perfect working order," His eyes darkened and he stared at her with that untamed wild look leering back at her, like the man who was so dangerous that his hands and feet were forced to be shackled down and caged inside that box as if he were an animal. "I also wouldn't worry about if I come up short unless you think eight and a half inches wont be enough to satisfy you." He grinned, folded both hands across his chest and watched her cheeks turn a deep shade of red as he watched the flush reach her neck and heaving chest. "I haven't been with anyone else Lizzie, for months not since that night." He felt like he owed her that admission, even though he wanted to despretly push her away before he lost himself in her, he couldn't stand for her to think that he could bed another woman after he realized that his actions had wounded her. "Your playing with fire right now, don't tempt me to do something you will regret in the morning. I know you haven't been with a man in over a year and I won't be gentle the first time, and I promise you the girth is way better than the length and I will tear you apart, Lizzie."

He was an animal, she was the only one who could tame him and she was thankful for that but she wanted in his bed and she wanted him to unleash all that he had on her, she wanted him tamed in every other aspect of their lives but she wanted this side of him- the wild animalistic beast to come out in the bedroom, and she wanted his rage and passion directed towards her.

She could feel her arousal, his voice and words alone soaked her panties, and she wondered what his hands, his tongue, and his cock, could do to her body. So she decided that two could play this game, she would make him pounce, drive him crazy with her words and her assets; which she knew he appreciated.

* * *

><p>Something inside her turned, it made her bold, and it made her act in a way she never thought possible. She could blame it on the alcohol, the tension in the room, or she could just admit that their chemistry was so powerful that her body ached for both the romantic and animal in him.<p>

"God, You are a good talker, Red." She stated, "I'll give you that." Her legs moved at their own volition until she came face to face with him again. "Maybe I want you to ruin me, maybe this is me giving you permission- free range to act on your emotions and desires." She watched him inhale, and then she decided to test his resolve.

She lowered her voice, it was already raspy and made everything she said sound like a seduction, "I'm so wet for you right now, Red. I promise that you could just slide right in." It was exhilarating watching him wither, she never thought the day would come that would render him speechless and utterly shocked. A muffled noise resonated in the room from the back of his throat as he fought hard to keep calm. It gave her new vigor to be vulgar, to drive him crazy and overpower him until she had the upper hand and he surrendered to her. She wanted him to lose his mind.

"Don't tell me you haven't thought about it." She licked her lips, "How it would feel to be inside of me," her hands moved to the buttons of her shirt, "It would feel so good wouldn't it? I'd be so tight, so wet, so hot around your cock." With a flick of her hand the curve of her cleavage was exposed to him.

His mouth watered, and his cock twitched.

"Do you ever think about how I would taste?" She asked biting the side of her lip as she watched him grow rigid underneath his slacks. Another turn of her wrist with another button down. His mouth hung open, his eyes gawked at the sight of her flesh. "Don't you wanna find out? My pussy will be the sweetest meal you'll ever eat."

His eyes rolled back, he hadn't touched her and she hadn't touched him but goddamn the sexual tension, the pent up aggravations and hidden feelings were enough to make him go mad and now she was talking dirty to him and he wondered if this was another one of his dreams because this was his favorite fantasy turning into a reality and he was a selfish man, he tried to do the noble thing and push her away but she had gone too far and pushed one two many buttons. Once he was done with her, she would be his forever and he would make her not only understand and accept that but be willing and eager to give herself to him for the rest of his life.

"Lizzie," He whispered, her name sounding like a prayer coming from his lips.

With another step she was now in his personal space, she brought her mouth to his ear and let her breath dance on the sensitive skin on the curve of his neck. She watched him fluster before her eyes. "Don't you wanna eat it and beat it like you own it, Red?"

He let out a long strangled moan. He lost it. Before she could pull back and watch the reaction that her words evoked from him, his hands were on her. A death grip on her hips that was sure to leave a temporary tattoo of bruising in the shape of his fingers. His hands were so big and warm that she felt the heat omitting from them and scorching her flesh the fabric of her clothes. He picked her up like she was light as a feather and instantly she wrapped both legs around him. His face was flushed with desire and determination and hers laced with need and want. He walked the short distance and deposited her on the counter but her legs still barricaded him in her space.

He kissed her without warning, without asking for her permission, without second- guessing. They were both too far gone to care and in too deep to pull away. This was love; this is what people spend their whole lives searching for. It was all consuming.

When his lips met hers everything finally made sense. There was an electricity that passed between the two, a bond that was formed and sealed, and a mutual understanding that this what it- there would be nothing better or more suitable, this was as good as it would ever get. And it was mind-blowing and erratic. He kissed her like he was a dying man and her lips were the only thing keeping him alive- breathing life unto him.

He kissed her like he was drowning and she was air. There was no delicacy or gentleness, it was desperate and raw and sometimes painful. Teeth clashed together while tongues fought their way into each other's mouths'. She tasted as sweet as honey and felt as smooth as melted butter. He sucked on her bottom lip like she was a well and he was swallowing the last few drops of water before it ran dry and then soothed the damage he'd caused by the caress of his tongue. She felt uninhibited, he brought out another side of her, one that nobody had seen witness to until this very moment and she realized she saved this side of her for him. She caught his tongue and sucked on it until it drove him crazy. Her fingers raked at his neck while her other hand clasped at the short stubble of hair on the back of his head and when he grabbed her ass and pushed her into him and she felt the friction between their bodies, she let out a cry and dug her fingernails into his flesh until she drew blood and a strangled moan from the back of his throat.

He broke the kiss and couldn't help the smugness that graced his face when he heard her whimper at the loss of contact and watched as she leaned forward to capture his lips again. He moved his head away and opted an assault on her neck. He nipped and sucked at the flesh between her ear and shoulder until her body was covered in Goosebumps and her legs contracted around his waist- they tightened and released and he couldn't wait until he felt the walls of her pussy swallow all of him in. "God, I didn't think you had it in you, Lizzie. I cant say I'm not pleased though, I thought I knew everything about you but imagine my sheer shock and surprise to find out you're a closet freak." He moved his mouth to her ear and his tongue traced the outline of cartilage from top to bottom, it left her breathless.

He wanted to give her a taste of her own medicine, "I'm going to fuck you so good," He promised her, "You'll forget your name… hell, your going to think my name is Yes, God Yes, or Fuck yes." He moved one hand from her waist and caressed down her thighs until he brought it in between her legs. He cupped her sex through her jeans and used his thumb to stroke circles around her mound. She was so turned on, so incredibly hot and bothered that the slightest touch from him had her quivering and whimpering under his ministrations. She threw her head back as her hips started to move around his hand, searching for release. "I'm going to keep you coming all night long." He vowed.

He watched her movements and reveled in the fact that she let herself be vulnerable to him, it turned him on even more if that were possible. "Are you close?" He inquired while burying his face between her breasts and kissing every area of visible flesh. "Could I make you come like this?" Her body answered the question for both of them as he watched her eyes roll back and her legs tremble while her toes curled into his back. "Oh, God Yes." She moaned as the orgasm took over her body and reached lengths she had not been privy to for far too long. Her inner walls clenched and lips trembled at the sweet release.

"Did you just have an orgasm, after hearing me talk about giving you an orgasm?

He kept stroking her and her body was so sex starved that she didn't even feel pain from sensitivity, only felt the convulsions of another orgasm seeping to the surface. All she could do is stare back without answering.

"I think you did, I think you just came and I think watching you ride out your orgasm is the sexiest sight I've ever seen." He was just as breathless as her, "I want to see it again, I want to eat you out, Lizzie. I want to hear you scream my name."

His goddamn voice could make anything sound sexy and hearing him talk to her like this was like sex to her ears. She didn't doubt that her body would betray her and she could embarrass herself by getting off on his voice alone. He had thrown her off her kilter and her mind was fuzzy from her release, she couldn't think of something bold to say.

She swallowed hard, "I don't know what to say." He moved his head from worshipping the curves of her breasts and looked into her eyes.

"You can start by saying Yes, Please, Red. Eat my pussy."

He bit the side of his cheek to keep the smile that wanted to despretly form off his face at the sight of her frazzled state. He wiggled his eyebrows and cocked his head, his attention jumping from her eyes to mouth.

Her throat went dry at his words and that voice could carry her away, anywhere he wanted her to go. She couldn't believe how clear and steady her words came out.

"Yes, Please, Red. Eat my pussy."

"I thought you'd never ask." He playfully chided.


	7. You and Me

**Its 1:30 in the AM and I just finished this chapter, I'm tired and can't see straight and I don't have a Beta so excuse the mistakes (though I tried to fix most of them) Seriously this is over 4,000 words and they still haven't fucked yet, I oddest know why I enjoy sexual torture but I promise next chapter Red will impale Lizzie ;).**

**Let me know what you think, Im not a seasoned smut writer so I don't know WtF im doing lol.**

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><p>God, hearing those words leave her lips, hearing her voice asking him to taste her, giving him permission to bare her of her clothing and allowing him to spread those beautiful legs apart and bury his face on her mound made his cock twitch in anticipation and grow so uncomfortably long and thick against the barrier of his slacks. He stood there in her presence, restrained by her legs that still wrapped around him tightly and studied her face, marveled at what looked back at him, it was a sight that had haunted many of his dreams, and been the topic of so many of his fantasies. He was afraid to move, afraid to breathe, he didn't even want to blink because if this was a dream, he wanted to live in it forever and never wake from it because this was better than reality- This was heaven.<p>

He should feel ashamed, he should be the bigger man, and he should push her away. Sam is probably rolling in his grave and if it were the other way around he would be too. But he hasn't felt this was about anybody in more than a couple decades and as his mind wanders to the women who came before her- he realizes that not one of them compared to Lizzie, in any way, shape or form. He thought he knew what love was. He thought he had felt it before and he was sure he had been loved long ago- boy was he wrong.

She possessed him; she was his obsession, his desire, his need and his want. She made him feel again, Lizzie made him breathe, she made it possible for the blood to travel up and down his veins, and she made him feel alive when for so long he felt lifeless.

Red loved Sam, but Sam is dead, and Raymond's feelings are real and as perverse as they might seem to an outsider, they were pure as snow. He loved her. He was in love with her- that was an over-simplification. Love did not do justice to the feelings he harbored for Lizzie; one word would never be enough to describe what she meant to him.

She looked so beautiful with her hair messily framing her face, her swollen lips a deep shade of red and her black lace bra peaking out from her shirt and giving him an incredible view of her breasts while her chest heaved up and down. Her flesh was flushed pink and every inch of her exposed skin illuminated in the light.

It was her eyes that almost broke him, they were so full of expectation and desire and longing for him that it made him want to prolong this moment as long as he could and just relish in the right here and right now because he was a man that savored everything and he wanted to memorize every single second of their union and engrave it in his mind detail by detail, so he could relive it every single day of his life.

His gaze studied her body meticulously and the silence in the room was deafening if it wasn't for their ragged breathing. He almost expected her to chicken out or become uncomfortable at his study of her and retreat but instead, she sat there patiently with a wistful look dancing across her face.

"What are you thinking about right now?" He asked with an upturn of his lips.

Lizzie gave him a shy smile before breaking eye contact for a minute. Her stomach fluttered and she bit the side of her lip to keep her mouth from blurting something out before her mind had a second to analyze it. "Nothing." The word left her mouth slowly with a playful hint to it.

Red tisked at her with a tilt to the head. "Sometimes I wonder what goes on in that pretty little head of yours." He stated while reaching out a hand into her hair.

"Sometimes I wonder the same thing." Lizzie let out a breath and couldn't help but lean into his touch. Red gently played with some tendrils of hair before bringing his hand to cup the back of her neck. His fingers immediately went to work and meticulously rubbed at the exposed flesh. His hands were so big and his fingers were so long and thick and they did wonders to her stiff neck. She couldn't help but let out a whimper as her eye lids fluttered closed and she lost herself to his touch.

He continued to work his magic for a few moments while letting her statement hang in the air. When Lizzie began to make little noises of approval, Red had had enough. He brought his face to the side of her ear; his breath tickled the sensitive skin and sent a shiver down her spine. He gave her little pecks between her ear and neck before running his tongue up and down the curve of her ear. "If you knew what was going on in my head, how much time I spend fantasying about you, how many places I imagine having my way with you, all the positions I think about fucking you in…you would run away and hide." Lizzie's breath hitched, and when he bit down on her earlobe and sucked at the flesh, her eyes rolled at the back of her head and she let out a desperate groan.

"Red." She pleaded, her voice laced with desire and need. This was torturous, he was moving way too slow for her liking, and they had waited way too long for this moment. "Don't you think nearly two years is enough foreplay for two people to handle?" She asked saucily as one of her hands laced around his waist and the other traveled down from his pecks down his stomach before clutching at his belt buckle. His eyes moved to watch her hand travel over his body and she swore that she heard his intake of breath when she pulled him closer to her. He gulped when he saw her hands reach even further and cup him over his slacks. Red let out a groan, "Lizzie." He whispered as she felt his entire length. He watched her hands move up and down his length, making him harder and thicker before both their eyes. Lizzie couldn't suppress the moan that escaped her mouth and Red immediately averted his gaze back to her face just in time to watch her marveling at what stood erect between his legs. He watched her as she licked her lips while continuing her sweet torture on his cock before she bit her bottom lip and let out a small whimper.

Red growled at her, "You like what you feel, sweetheart?" He thrust his hips into her hand and laced an arm around her waist. "Just wait till you see it and feel it inside that sweet, wet pussy of yours." He brought the hand that was behind her neck up to trace the side of her jaw before he captured her lips into a wet and sloppy kiss.

Lizzie moaned into his mouth before grasping his hand and bringing it to her lips. She kissed his palm before taking his pointer finger into her mouth and nibbling on the top of it, her eyes fixated on his and all caution was thrown into the wind. He made her feel sexy and wanted and he brought out a side of her she never knew existed. He encouraged her to let go of her inhibitions and he made her want to explore the she-devil that was hidden inside of her.

She took his finger into her mouth and slowly sucked on it; her tongue flickered over the crevices and length while her teeth gently nibbled on his flesh. The sight was so erotic and she looked so damn sexy. Red closed his eyes and imagined his finger being replaced by his cock.

"Is that how you're gonna suck me off Lizzie?" All she could do is moan and suck at his flesh harder and with more enthusiasm. She was still giving him a hand job through his slacks and Red was close to the brink of snapping again. He let his eyes wander between what she was doing to his cock and what she was mimicking doing to his cock with his finger in her mouth for a few more moments until his arousal reached the point of no return, Red loved torture- the sexual kind at least. He loved foreplay, he wanted to tease and be teased until both parties were delirious and ready to pounce each other, usually he could last a lot longer but his Lizzie was just too enticing and she was right, they had waited long enough.

In one quick move he brought both hands and cupped her thighs before scooting her off the marble counter and into his arms. Her legs were already laced around him and he settled his grip right on her ass as he made a quick detour towards the stairs that led up to his room. Lizzie let out a surprised gasp and clutched at the back of his neck for dear life. She wasn't used to being carried, so this was all so new and exciting to her. She felt safe in his arms, she felt like she belonged to him, and instead of making her feel like an object or a belonging, she felt wanted and desired.

"As much as I would love to eat you on top of the counter, I expect you to be quite vocal as I'm quite an expert with my tongue and hands and well, lets not forget about my cock, but I don't want to run the risk of Dembe walking in on us with my face buried in between your legs," He whispered in her ear as he carried her like she was a feather up the stairs, "And my room is sound proof." He added before kneading her ass into his groin.

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><p>Lizzie was sure that this man could make her orgasm with his words alone, and she didn't even feel ashamed of the revelation anymore, she just accepted it.<p>

His door was already opened and he strode right in and kicked it shut behind them. He walked a short distance before gently plopping her on the bed. She landed in a head and brought her body up to rest on her arms and stared expectantly at him.

He marveled at the sight in front of him before wasting no time, caused they had wasted enough as is. He reached for her boots and threw each on the floor before discarding her socks. His hands went to work on her jeans and unbuttoned them before pulling her zipper down and latching onto the material at each side of her hips and disrobing her. He pulled off her panties with her jeans.

She lay there with her bottom half completely bare before him, her knees rested against each other lightly teasing him, keeping him from looking his fill. His hands reach out and ripped her blouse open, before she could let out a word, he whispered to her, "I'll buy you a new one." Red helped her out of the shirt and with a twist of his wrist her bra was unclasped and hung on her shoulders. Her breasts were fully exposed to him and he appreciated that the clasp was in the front when her breasts bounced up and down, free from the constriction of her lacy bra. He ran his fingers over her shoulders until they grasped the straps and pulled them down. Before long she was completely naked before him and Red was completely in awe of her.

"God, you perfect, Lizzie." He said breathlessly. "My fantasies do not do you any justice." He added as he studied her from head to toe.

Lizzie rubbed her legs together in anticipation and because she needed friction, she needed him to touch her before she went insane. He leered at her, his gaze was predatory, like a hunter ready to go in for the kill and that excited her that much more. His eyes burned her flesh and she couldn't wait to find out what the other parts of his body would make her feel.

"Spread your legs for me, Lizzie." His voice was like a fifty year old single malt scotch, it oozed sex and forbidden fruit, and it made her willing to give him everything she had. She parted her knees and spread her legs as far as she could. He growled at the sight, the sound was animalistic and the look in his eyes reminded her of how dangerous he could be and it did nothing but turn her on even further.

Red licked his lips while gazing at her mound, her soft pink folds slightly parted and full, dripping with her arousal and all ready for him to bury himself inside her, just like she had stated minutes before. His imagination had painted an image of her in his head but reality was so much sweeter, she was bare and smooth, exactly like he assumed. He grabbed at her ankles and brought her closer to the edge of the bed before climbing on top of her.

Red began by running his tongue along her jawline before moving to nip at the skin on her neck. She tasted so sweet and delicious and he wanted to get lost in her. She made him forget about the pain of the past, the sorrow of the last twenty odd years and she made him feel redeemed. Her soft moans only turned in on even more and the way her hand run up and down his back lovingly made him feel less hideous and more human. Her fingers raked at the hairs on the back of his head and her face nuzzled the space between his shoulder and neck.

Her moans only grew louder as he made meticulous attention to every curve on her neck, he kissed, he nipped, he raked his teeth before suckling inch by inch of her flesh until he raised pink and purple marks haphazardly over her sensitize skin.

His mouth moved south and kissed between her breasts, his tongue traveled from the curve of her cleavage all the way down to her bellybutton before making it was back up again.

Lizzie watched his ministrations in fascination, the way his tongue darted out and the way it moved beneath her skin made her tremble with anticipation, she watched as his biceps flexed while he held himself up by his arms and marveled at how his muscles contracted and released, why did she even find his hands sexy? He exuded sex appeal and manliness- he always had to be the alpha-male- and that made him that much more desirable to her.

She yelped when his tongue latched onto her nipple and brought her out of her reverie. He was right before- he was not gentle, he was overcome by hunger and desire and he gave her no mercy. His teeth rolled her flesh until her bud was rock solid and then nipped and pulled at it with his teeth, teetering between the very thin line of pleasure and pain. The pain quickly dissipated when he soothed her flesh by taking in as much of her breast into his mouth as he could before sucking eagerly on it. His other hand groped her other breast before switching sides and making sure to give the same amount of attention and treatment to the other.

* * *

><p>He made her feel like she was being worshipped.<p>

"Oh, God." She kept muttering underneath her breath in between the gasps for air and the moans that escaped unashamedly from the back of her throat. When she couldn't take anymore torture, she wiggled her hips for some kind of friction but he didn't take the hint and didn't divert his attention until she grabbed the back of his head and pushed for him to move and descend down her body. He chuckled at her assertiveness and relished in the fact that she took an initiative with him.

He looked up at her mischievously; a glint in his eyes and chewed on the side of his cheek before speaking. "What do you want, sweetheart?" He asked acting oblivious to her needs.

Lizzie let out a groan of frustration; she parted her legs and gave him an eye-level view of her sex. "You know what I want."

"I want to hear you say it again, Lizzie."

"Red." She groaned. But when she met his greedy gaze and saw the desire reflected back at her, she decided some battles were worth losing.

"I want you to eat my pussy, Red." She said breathlessly and was rewarded with his hum of approval. "Music to my ears." He muttered before dipping his head and bringing his mouth to the curve of her hipbone and planting open mouthed kisses on each side before tracing the curves that disappeared the closer he got to the nectar that was dripping out of her folds. He nipped at each thigh before raising more marks on her sensitive flesh. He didn't stop until he was satisfied with the amount of damage he had done. He didn't care if he was acting childish or like a smitten teenage boy who was far too eager and whose hormones were out of control. From this day forward he vowed to make sure he never left Lizzie without a few love bites and marks that put a claim on his territory. He was a possessive man and he didn't share, and he wanted to make sure she was marked and tainted by him because she is his- she always was and she always will be, even if he didn't deserve her and even if he hated himself for letting her settle for him.

His uses both his hands to clutch at each thigh and holds them apart, she's exposed to him and he wouldn't have it any other way. His eyes meet hers and he holds her gaze as his tongue runs up and down between her folds in a slow and torturous pace. She lets out a moan that fills the air and it's the most beautiful sound he's ever heard. Her eyes roll back and she loses herself to his ministrations. His tongue is so skilled, so long and so strong and it makes her knees buck and her hips thrust into his mouth involuntarily.

He works himself into a rhythm, knows what buttons to push and knows where to exert pressure. "You taste like heaven." He whispers into her mound and blows on her flesh before darting his tongue inside her.

He's fucking her with his tongue, and it feels so much better then anything any other man before him had offered her- albeit there was very few, nothing came close to this.

Though he had started out gentle, he his pace became frenzied and his enthusiasm shot through the roof. He hummed into her as he licked and sucked all the juices pouring out of her- he couldn't get enough of her, and she felt like he was inhaling every inch of her.

He didn't touch near her clit until he brought a hand into play and slipped a thick finger inside of her and groaned at how tight she felt against his flesh. Lizzie let out a gasp before she moaned his name over and over again. She leaned on her elbows and watched in fascination while he had his way with her. His mouth went to work on her clit and sucked eagerly at it while his finger moved frantically in and out of her. He slipped another finger inside of her and looked up at her as his tongue swirled her bud in between his teeth. There eyes met and never broke apart. The sight of him in between her legs, watching the flicker of his tongue dart in and out and being spellbound by his gaze that wouldn't let her look away, made her come undone. He made her feel like a woman, he made her feel open and free and worshipped.

"Red…" Her voice was thick and raspy and it made him moan into her flesh, "I'm going to cum…" She said in a whisper, "You're going to make me cum."

He let out a growl. He grabbed at her hips and pushed her further into his mouth as her legs shook uncontrollably and her toes curled as the beginning of her orgasm started to seep to the surface. Every muscle trembled, as much with tension as with bliss. She couldn't control her body, the spasms kept pouring out from inside her, as her throaty moans only grew louder. She grabbed at the back of his head and pushed him into her even more and let out a scream.

Her insides contracted and pulsed as she rode out her orgasm, she tried to keep her gaze on Red and his unrelenting torture on her clit and inside her pussy but she couldn't help throwing her head back in ecstasy as her eyes rolled back and her chest heaved.

He continued to lick and lap at her until she cried out. "I want to make you cum again," He breathed into her thigh, "I love hearing you cum, I love watching you cum…" He wanted to follow with, "I love everything about you." But he was afraid that his declaration of love would scare her off.

She grabbed at his biceps and tugged at him to move up. He climbed on top of her and positioned himself between her legs. She wasted no time capturing his lips and moving them against hers. She darted her tongue out and traced the outline of his lower lip before sucking on it. She tried to show him everything she was feeling inside, she wanted him to know how bad she wanted him, how sexy he was to her and how eager she was to be with him.

Their kisses were so passionate and sensual, their heated gazes were strong enough to burn holes into each other and the way their bodies moved against one another made it seem like they had been going at it for years.

Red was so delighted to witness Lizzie so eager and ready for him, he had been celibate for months now, hanging on the small flicker of hope that she would be his one day and he could hardly believe that they day had come and hopefully in a little while, so would he.

Lizzie reached down between them and went to work on his belt without breaking their kiss. After some fumbling she finally got it undone and unclasped the button of his slacks and pulled down the zipper. He helped her pull his slacks and boxers down his waist. He broke off the kiss and stood on his knees between her legs and let her take her fill of him.

Her mouth hung open in awe and he felt her legs enclose around him. She stared at him in all his naked glory with a hunger in her eyes. She watched as his cock twitched under her gaze and was mesmerized by how appealing he was.

"You like what you see?" He asked, he knew what he looked like, and he was proud of it. His smugness didn't turn her off, especially now that she knew what he looked like naked.

"Well…" She started, "You certainly don't disappoint," She reached for his cock and wrapped her hands around his thick, swollen length. She brushed the head of it and watched as pre-cum oozed from the tip. Red wasn't lying, he was a big boy- in both length and girth. She felt herself getting wetter by the second imagining his cock sliding into her and filling her to a tilt while her pussy struggled to take him all in and her walls stretching to accommodate his impressive girth. Her thoughts make her let out a whimper.

She shook her head playfully before tilting it to the side, "Should have known…" She started while moving her hand up and down his length and watched as Red groaned in pleasure. "You talk, walk, and act like a man with a big…"

He shut her up with a hungry kiss, "I have to be inside of you, Lizzie." It was the first time she ever heard a pleading tone come from Red.

"You will be." She stated, "But first it's my turn to eat."


End file.
